


016. Strawberries

by fall_into_life



Series: Beacon University [7]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Begging, F/M, Humiliation, Masturbation, Please Use Safe Words When You Play, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 15:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15754911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fall_into_life/pseuds/fall_into_life
Summary: Yang goes back to Junior's club.





	016. Strawberries

**Author's Note:**

> 'Hot' domme Yang and prideful sub Junior.

Yang doesn’t stay away from the club for long. She knows she won’t get all of what she wants right now from Junior - not even close - but if she’s careful, she might be able to work up to the point where she can get him inside her. It won’t be tonight. It might not be this month, or for a few months yet. But she thinks it’s possible, and she wants it.

“Yang,” he says, when she comes in. It’s a weeknight. The club’s busy enough to keep it open, but not so much he really has to pay much attention. Maybe he should be calling her 'sir’, but she’ll let it slide. She does try to let him keep some of his dignity in front of his employees.

“Junior,” she says, swinging her legs over a stool. “Get me something fruity.”

He reaches underneath the bar for a glass, a bottle of her favorite vodka, and….

“Strawberries?” She asks, surprised. She’s been in enough clubs to know that’s not really a thing they usually stock. Limes, lemons, even oranges sometimes, but not strawberries.

He pours the vodka and mixes it, not looking at her. “You like 'em.”

Yang should cut him off right now. She should make it really clear that she’s not looking for this with him, that he’s just someone she likes to fuck with. Honestly, she should leave, and stay away for a while.

But she does like strawberries.

So she reaches over the bar, brushes her fingers over his hand. He still doesn’t meet her eyes, but he drops a few strawberry halves into the drink, and sets it down in front of her, complete with little umbrella. She takes the drink. He walks to the other side of the bar, helping someone else.

She watches him. He’s so easy in this place, commands it effortlessly. Usually she finds it hot that she can reduce him to begging her for relief, but she can appreciate his power, too. There’s no chance she’ll let him use it on her - doesn’t think either one of them want that, anyway - but she can enjoy watching him work.

“You’ve got a nice butt,” she tells him, when he returns. She’s halfway through her drink, and all the strawberries are gone.

Junior laughs for the first time she can remember. “I work out.”

She winks. “I can tell.”

He snorts. “Alright, Yang, what are you here for?”

She taps the edge of her glass. “After this, I’m going to take a certain club owner into the back and see how much fun he’s gonna be tonight.”

Junior watches her, his eyes darkening. “You sure about that?”

Yang tilts her head, tracing her fingers around the rim of her glass. “Oh, Junior, I’m very sure.”

He walks away from her without a word, but he’s not subtle; she catches him glancing at her glass, and she know he’s started standing in ways that show off his butt. She doesn’t try to hide that she’s checking him out. He’s the one that feels like he needs to hide what they’re doing, not her.

When she gets down to the ice, she puts her glass down, leaning onto the bar. It only takes him a few seconds to flag down his replacement, and then he steps out. She follows him, watching his ass the entire way.

This time, he doesn’t say a word when she sits in the chair. She planned this time, wore pants that she can get her hands in if she wants to, wore a tank underneath her shirt so she can show off her tits if he’s good. She slips off her shoes, confident she’ll be here for longer than before.

“Strip,” she says. “Everything, this time.”

He takes a deep breath, and unbuttons his suit jacket.

Yang stands, walking around him to get a good look. She was right about him working out. He isn’t the kind of lean muscle she’s gotten used to seeing on men. He’s buff, built for size and strength over speed. She knows she could take him - he doesn’t move like a fighter - without much trying, so long as she doesn’t let it get to a grapple. She’s not a bad wrestler, but at a certain size difference it doesn’t matter. He stays in place, letting her inspect him.

She comes around to his front again, meeting his eyes. She grabs a pillow off of the bed, dropping it in front of him. “Get on your knees.”

He drops, faster than last time. She does another circuit, this time letting her hands drift over his shoulders. He’s still massive, but she’s taller than him when he’s like this. She stands behind him, gently pulling his head back to it rests against her. His eyes are closed, and she wonders if he’s decided to put this much trust in her, or if it’s coming naturally. She could break his neck. He doesn’t seem to care.

“You’ve got a nice dick, too,” she says, breaking the silence. He’s only half-hard. She likes that better than if he had a raging boner, actually. They haven’t done anything yet, haven’t even really started, so any hard-on he had would be all in his head, not because of her. On the other hand, she’d be a little insulted if he were totally soft when she’s in this outfit.

He huffs out a laugh. “Can’t take credit for that one.”

She traces his cheekbones with the tips of her fingers, curling them inward so her blunt nails leave faint red lines over his skin. He doesn’t move, only flinches when she gets too close to his eyes, and even then he goes right back to where he was when she moves on. He’s done this before. She thought so, but he’s been so prickly about letting her take control that she wasn’t entirely sure. He’s probably one of those who thinks he’s less of a man for letting a woman tell him what to do. If she sticks around, she’ll break him of that.

“Are you drunk?” She asks, only half serious. She uses her thumb to trace the outline of his lips. He shakes his head. “High?”

“Took a pill right before you got in,” he says. One of his eyes cracks open. “Pain medication, before you ask.”

“I wasn’t going to.” She’s not going to judge him about his life. His cope might not be her cope, but it’s whatever. “Sober enough for this?”

“For what, you working me up and leaving me on the floor again?” There’s no bite to his words, but Yang digs her nails in warningly even so. “Ow. Yes, I’m sober enough for this. Sir.”

Him calling her that flips a switch. She slides her hand over his face to rest on his throat, and he straightens up, eyes wide. There’s no fear in them, just anticipation. She can see his cock twitch out of the corner of her eye. “Stand up.” He stands, much faster than he knelt.

“Hands behind your back,” she says, feeling the blood thrumming in her veins.

He clasps his hands behind himself, and she steps out in front of him.

Yang doesn’t hide that she’s appreciating him. She knows some people do this cold, without showing any emotion or giving out any praise, but that’s not her. This whole thing - her in control of him, him letting her - gets her hot, and she owns that. She reaches out to trace the lines of his pecs, brushing her thumb over his nipple. He shivers. She drops her hand to trace his abs - not as good as hers, but that’s a high standard - and skims over the curve of his hip. Yang walks around him, touching him wherever she wants, wherever the light catches the lines of him or her eye spots a muscle she wants to test. He stays quiet through her inspection.

“Pretty good,” she says, falling back into the chair. “I bet you get all kinds of girls.”

He chuckles. “I get whoever I want. Sir.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Except me.”

He tilts his head. He doesn’t say that he has her right now, which is good, because he doesn’t. He hasn’t touched her at all, but she’s touched him everywhere but where he wants her. She could walk out right now, and he’d be left naked with a hardon and none of his dignity.

She reaches up, starts tracing her cleavage. She needs someone to touch her, and it’s not going to be him. “Kneel.”

“You gonna keep me going up and down all night? Sir?”

She chuckles. “You’d do it if I told you to.” He doesn’t reply, but the red on his face tells her that he would. “Have you ever fucked a guy?”

He jerks, and she just grins. She has no idea where she’s going with this, but she doesn’t need to. It’ll work out, with or without a plan.

“Yeah,” he says, getting on his knees again. “Couple times.”

“You like 'em pretty?” She’s honestly curious at this point. She didn’t guess he was bi.

Junior searches her eyes. “I like 'em loud, with big dicks.”

Yang giggles. “Me too.”

She crosses her arms over her ribcage, pulling her shirt off and leaving herself in just a tank. His eyes go wide, and she remembers, kinda late, that she had a fight last night, and kinda got the shit beaten out of her. Nothing on the face or neck, this time, but she’s got a hell of a bruise on one side of her chest, and a handful of scrapes on her arm.

“You… Yang.” Junior swallows. He’s breaking the moment, but she lets it go because he sounds concerned. “Are you… okay?”

“I’m a kickboxer,” she tells him. His eyes flick over her body, for once not to appreciate, but to size her up. She lifts her arms, flexing, and she sees his dick twitch. “Oh, yeah. I could definitely hold you down.” Maybe she could and maybe she couldn’t, but the way he goes red makes it worth maybe being wrong about the boast.

“You… any good?” He shifts, leaning back on his legs.

“One of the best,” she says simply. Unlike saying she could hold him down, that’s not an empty boast. She’s top-ranked. “You good, or should I keep telling you about how I could kick your ass?”

His flush gets darker, and his eyes drop. “Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t apologize,” she says. Then, sharper: “You know what to do.”

His begging is a little better tonight. He’s been thinking about it, she figures. Or maybe it’s that he’s completely naked this time, his dick hard and bobbing in front of him. The longer he goes on, the more she wants to ride him, but she bites into the inside of her cheek to keep her head clear. Instead, she shifts forward in her seat, dips her fingers inside her shirt to toy with her nipple. His breath hitches, but he keeps going.

“Good,” she says, stopping him. She gestures him closer. “Come here.”

He moves to stand, and she gives him a look. He sets his jaw, and settles down again, then shuffles forward on his knees. He stops when he’s just shy of touching her. She uncrosses her legs and spreads them, pulling him closer with a hand on his chin. Yang moves him in until he’s flush against the edge of the chair, his body only a breath away from pressing up against her cunt. He’s breathing heavy, eyes dark and his skin red all the way down his chest. She grins, smoothing her palms up her stomach until they reach her chest. She runs her thumbs along the edge of the tank, then drags it down until her tits are free of the fabric. He whines.

Yang moves her hands up to his shoulders, traces her nails along his biceps. She moves further down until she’s caught his hands in hers, and brings them up to her tits. He freezes, his eyes searching hers.

“Get me wet, big boy,” she breathes.

He starts to touch her, and she rests her hands on the arms of the chair, watching him through half-closed eyes. She’s already wet, honestly, but she wants to see what he can do to her. He doesn’t disappoint. He knows just how to touch her, how to cup her tits, where to put pressure. She starts panting, moaning and rolling her hips. He groans, and dips his head.

She’s going to let him, but he stops halfway down, looking up at her. “Can I?”

She pretends to think it over, but she’s really taking the time to catch her breath. “Ask nice.”

“Please,” he says, breath hot on her skin, “sir, can I use my mouth to get you wet?”

She curls fingers into his hair, and yanks his head down.

They’re both moaning as soon as his mouth touches her skin. He drags his tongue over the skin on her chest, greedily lapping up her sweat. She wraps the fingers of her other hand around the back of his neck, guiding him where she wants him. Every time she moves him, he moans, his tongue and teeth taking advantage of every piece of skin she allows him to touch. He wraps his lips around one of her nipples and sucks hard, and Yang cries out, bucking her hips.

“Fuck, sir,” he pants against her skin, “I’m gonna–”

She plants a foot in the center of his chest and pushes him back hard. He hits the floor, looking up at her with surprise in his eyes.

“Jerk off,” she orders him, her heart thudding in her chest. “You’ve got ten seconds or you’re not coming tonight.”

He stares up at her, frozen. She pulls on one of her nipples, hissing out a breath. “One….” His hands drop to his dick. “Two….” He cups one hand around his balls. “Three….” His other hand starts moving, frantic and rough. He winces. “Four….” He spits on his hand, moving it back to his dick with a groan. “Five….” He plays with his balls with the one hand, the other stroking his shaft. “Six….” Before she hits seven, he’s spurting all over his stomach, groaning helplessly.

Fuck. She wants to stick around until he’s hard again, get him inside her. Her cunt throbs, only getting worse while she watches him shoot out onto his own skin. She pinches her nipple, moaning. His eyes snaps to hers.

“Stay still,” she tells him, standing. He doesn’t move a muscle as she walks over to him, then sinks down to straddle his hips. His hands ball into fists at his side.

She pops the button to her pants, reaching one hand inside of them. Yang jerks when she finds wetness, swallowing down another moan. “Stay down. Play with my tits.” His hands are on her immediately, kneading. She pushes her chest into his palms.

Between the two of them, she comes fast, but she doesn’t stop after the first. She can see it in his eyes when he realizes she’s going for a second orgasm, and she smirks. His dick is twitching against his belly by the time she comes the second time, and she knows he’d let her fuck him. That, more than anything, tells her she has to leave. She already didn’t really mean to rub one out anywhere near him, she needs to go before she gets caught up in him. There are boundaries between them, and she doesn’t think they can cross this one yet and have her still be in control. That… would put an end to this whole thing real fast.

She stands, turning to reach for her shirt. It’s a little sticky with sweat, but she puts it on anyway, stepping into her shoes.

“You leaving?” He asks, sitting up. Part of her wants to tell him to stay on his back, but if she starts this up with him again, she’s not leaving until he’s been inside her.

“Mm,” she turns to face him. “Yep. Seeya, Junior.”

She thinks of the hunger in his eyes when she fucks herself later that night.


End file.
